The Storekeeper's Daughter (24 page)

“Sure is a nice night,” Naomi said. “Looks like we’ll have us a hot summer, what with spring bein’ so warm and all.”

“Yep.”

“Hope we have a good turnout tonight.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m glad Matthew agreed to help out. It’s good for him to be with young people other than those in his own family.”

“Right.”

Naomi sighed. “Caleb, you said you wanted to take a walk so we could talk. Only trouble is, I’m doin’ all the talkin’.”

He let go of her hand and bent over to scoop up a flat rock, which he promptly pitched into the water. “Guess I’m a bit nervous.”

“How come? It’s not like this is our first date or anything.”

“I know, but it’s the first time I’ve ever proposed to a woman.”

Naomi’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes were wide. “You mean propose marriage?”

He nodded. “If you’ll have me, I’d be pleased to make you my wife come November.”

“Really?”

“You don’t believe me?”

She laughed lightly. “Of course. It’s just so sudden. We’ve only been courting a few months.”

Caleb took both of her hands this time. “You’ve known for some time how I feel about you, right?”

“Jah.”

“I’ve loved you ever since we were kinner, but until the Monday after Christmas, when your daed said we could court, I never thought I’d have the chance to ask you to marry me.”

Naomi’s eyes filled with tears. “To tell you the truth, I never thought I’d be asked to marry anyone.”

He could hardly believe his ears. Naomi was everything a man could possibly want in a wife. She was beautiful, smart, a hard worker, and ever so sweet. “Well, I’m askin’ now, and if you think you could love me even a little bit, it would make me the happiest man in all of Lancaster County.”

Naomi smiled, and he thought he could drown in the joy he saw on her face. “Caleb Hoffmeir, I love you, and not just a little bit. I’d be honored to be your wife.”

“I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss over Jimmy’s birthday. You bought enough balloons and crepe paper to decorate the whole house.” Jim motioned to the pile of decorations Linda had placed on the kitchen table. “He’s only turning two and won’t even remember this day when he’s grown up.”

She frowned. “We’ll take lots of pictures. He’ll have those to look at and know his mommy and daddy cared enough to give him a party.”

“Who are you inviting to this shindig?” he asked.

“Just my folks—and maybe my sister and her husband.”

“No other kids besides Jimmy will be here?”

She shook her head. “He doesn’t really know any children.”

Jim groaned. “That’s because you shelter him too much, Linda. The boy should be around kids his age.”

Linda pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table. “He’s too young for preschool, and he has no cousins living nearby, so how can you expect him to have other children to play with?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you enroll in an exercise class at that new fitness center across town? I hear they have a great nursery for kids.” Linda opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Jim added, “It would be good for both you and Jimmy.”

She scowled. “Are you saying I’m fat and need to exercise in order to lose weight?”

Now where did that come from?
Jim rubbed his forehead, glad Jimmy was taking a nap and couldn’t hear the shouting that was probably forthcoming.

“Is that what you were insinuating, Jim?” she asked, her voice rising a notch.

Jim took the chair opposite Linda and grabbed a package of blue balloons. “You’re not fat, and I wasn’t hinting you needed to lose weight.”

“What then?”

“I just think you stay cooped up in this house too much. You and Jimmy need to get out more.”

“I take him for walks to the park, and we go shopping when I feel up to catching the bus.”

“I’m not talking about going for a trek to the park or shopping. You need to socialize more.”

“I would if we still lived in Boise. All my friends and family live there.”

Jim didn’t need reminding. She’d told him often enough that she didn’t like western Washington and wished they were still living in the town where they’d both grown up.

“We moved here because of my job,” he reminded. “You said back then you were in agreement with me starting my painting business here.”

She sighed. “I know, but I thought we’d have two or three children by now and would be so busy raising them that I wouldn’t have time to miss my family back home.”

“This is your home now, Linda, and you do have Jimmy to raise.”

“But he’s only one child. I’d like more. Wouldn’t you?”

“We aren’t able to conceive, remember?”

“I know, but we adopted Jimmy, so why can’t we adopt more children?” She pushed her chair back and stood. “I can give our lawyer a call right now and ask him to get the proceedings started.”

Jim jumped up, knocking his chair over but catching it before it hit the floor. “That’s not a good idea!”

She whirled around. “Why not?”

“We’ve had Jimmy a couple months shy of a year. He needs more time as an only child.”

“Why? Because you were?”

He squinted, feeling his defenses rise. Was she trying to goad him into an argument? “That’s not what I meant, Linda, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. I think we need to allow ourselves and Jimmy the luxury of enjoying one another awhile.” He motioned toward the boy’s high chair. “When we first learned we couldn’t have children, you said you’d be happy with just one child ... that it would be enough if I agreed to adopt. Well, I got you a baby, so why don’t you appreciate it and ease up on me?”

Linda’s forehead wrinkled, and she tipped her head in question. “You make it sound as if you grabbed a kid off the street and presented him to me as some kind of peace offering.”

Jim swallowed hard. Linda had nearly hit the nail on the head. He had taken their son, and there was no legal adoption involved whatsoever. The adoption papers in the safe were phony. He didn’t even know when the boy’s real birthday was. The Amish girl selling root beer had said her brother turned one in April, so he’d made sure the birth certificate listed April fifteenth as Jimmy’s birth date. He had done everything involving Jimmy out of love for Linda. He wasn’t simply trying to appease her.

Jim stepped around the table and took his wife into his arms. “Let’s not fight, okay?”

“I didn’t start it,” she reminded.

“It doesn’t matter how it started. We need to set this disagreement behind us and go on from here.” Jim had been putting the hammer down on several things concerning Jimmy lately, but he figured he should back off on the issue of the boy’s party.

Linda’s chin quivered. “And where exactly is
here
?”

He kissed the top of her head. Those golden tresses that had enticed him when they were teenagers were still shiny and inviting. If he let her know how much she was loved, maybe Linda would calm down. “You can have as big a party for Jimmy as you want,” he relented, “but what would you think about me inviting a couple of my employees who have little kids? That way Jimmy will have someone to play with at the party.”

“Are you saying my family isn’t good enough for Jimmy?”

Jim blew out an exasperated breath. “I like your family, and I know your folks are good grandparents, but I wish you’d quit reading things into what I say.”

Linda leaned into him. “I’m sorry, Jim. I’m feeling uptight right now.”

“Yeah, I know.” As much as Jim had come to care for that little boy asleep in his crib upstairs, there were moments like now when he wished he’d never driven onto that Amish farm nearly a year ago.

Abraham leaned the pitchfork against the barn wall and breathed in the scents he had enjoyed since he was a boy. All the while he’d been growing up, Abraham figured he would end up a farmer like his daed. He’d been one for a while—until he married Sarah and she took over her folks’ general store after their passing. He couldn’t let his wife run the place by herself. There were too many heavy boxes to lift, figures and bookwork that never seemed to end, and often more customers than one person could handle. Besides, when the kinner came along, Sarah had more duties at home than ever before, which meant she sometimes couldn’t go to the store at all. Abraham had exchanged his pitchfork for a broom, and instead of riding an old hay baler pulled by a team of horses, he’d become co-owner of his wife’s family business. At that time he’d changed the name from Raber’s to Fisher’s General Store.

“No point in thinkin’ about the past or wishing for things that can never be,” Abraham murmured as he settled himself on a bale of straw. At the end of a long day, it was relaxing to come out to the barn and muck out the horses’ stalls or feed them some hay. It wasn’t the same as being out in the fields with his boys, but at least he could enjoy hearing the horses nicker, smell the aroma of hay bales stacked along one wall, and imagine he was a farmer again.

Speckles, Naomi’s cat, jumped into his lap and began to purr.

“Matthew, Norman, and Jake are the farmers now—carryin’ on a Fisher tradition that began many years ago when my ancestors first settled in Lancaster County,” Abraham said, stroking the furry creature’s head.

Speckles responded with more purring and a few licks to Abraham’s hand with his wet, sandpapery tongue.

“Wonder if Samuel will follow in his brothers’ footsteps and take to the plow, as well,” he continued, as though the cat were listening to his every word. “The boy already helps in the fields whenever he’s not in school. Seems to like it well enough, and might could be he’ll also become a farmer.”

The cat’s only response was a faint
meow.

“And what about Zach? If he were still livin’ here, would he have grown up with a love for the fields? Or would my youngest boy have developed other interests, as so many of the young people in our area are now doin’?” Abraham closed his eyes as he scratched Speckles behind one ear. “I’ll never know ’cause Zach won’t be growin’ up on this farm. His birthday’s tomorrow, and he’ll be turnin’ two. Only he won’t be celebrating with his real family, if at all.”

Abraham’s eyes snapped open. Did the folks who took Zach even know how old he was? Would they make up a birth date for the boy and celebrate it then?

A pang of regret stabbed Abraham’s heart, as sharp as any pitchfork piercing a bale of hay. In just a few weeks, he would be marrying Fannie Miller, and she made him happier than he ever dreamed possible. However, there would always be a part of him that would remain empty and void—the chunk of his heart that had been ripped away when Zach was kidnapped.

Fannie slipped into the dark blue dress she had recently made. She could hardly believe today was actually here. Her marriage to Abraham Fisher would take place in a few hours, and she was as nervous as she had been when she married Ezra twenty-three years ago.

Edna had wanted to host the wedding, but her house was too small, even though only family and a few close friends had been invited. So Abraham agreed to have it at his place, which had a lot more room.

“Mom, you’re shaking,” Abby noted as she helped her mother with her cape and apron. “You’re not havin’ second thoughts about marrying Abraham, are you?”

Fannie turned away from the mirror to face Abby. “Of course not. I love that man dearly and can’t wait to become his wife.”

“Then why so nervous?”

Fannie twisted her hands together. “Guess I’m feelin’ prewedding jitters like most brides do.” Her vision clouded as tears gathered in her eyes. “I hope I can make him happy—and his family, too.”

Abby hugged her mother. “You’ve been a wonderful mamm to me and Harold, and I know you’ll do fine with Abraham’s kinner, as well. And as far as makin’ him happy ... I’ve seen the look on that man’s face whenever the two of you are together. I’d say he loves my mamm beyond measure.”

Fannie dabbed at the corners of her eyes and smiled. “I’m glad you could be here to witness my special day. Havin’ you, Harold, and Lena at the wedding will make it even more wunderbaar.”

Abby sniffed and swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. “I love you so much, Mom, and it makes me glad to see you this happy.”

“You don’t think I’m being untrue to your daed by marrying again?”

“Definitely not. I know you’ll always love Dad, but I think there’s more than enough room in your heart to love Abraham, too.”

Fannie nodded. “How’d you get so smart, anyway?”

Abby grinned and took hold of her mother’s hand. “Guess it runs in the family, ’cause you’re one of the smartest people I know.”

Fannie clicked her tongue. “Go on with ya now.”

“No, I mean it, Mom. You’re the person who taught me how to quilt and run the shop so efficiently, and you instilled the love of God in Harold and me from the time we were little. I’d call that real smart.”

“Someday you’ll marry and do the same with your own children,” Fannie said as she set her head covering in place.

Abby’s cheeks turned pink, and her eyes glistened. “I hope it’s Lester I marry, for I surely do care for him, Mom.”

This time it was Fannie who initiated the hug. “God will show you if Lester’s the one He wants you to wed. Pray about it, okay?”

“I will. You can be sure of that.” Abby pulled back and studied her mother intently. “I’d say the bride’s ready to meet her groom. Shall we go see if the others are all set?”

Fannie nodded. “If I know Edna, she’s probably got the horse hitched to the buggy and is sittin’ in the backseat, ready and waiting.” She chuckled. “That fun-lovin’ cousin of mine enjoys any kind of party. Truth be told, she’s probably got all sorts of tricks up her sleeve to give me and Abraham a good laugh during our reception today.”

Abby slipped her hand through the crook of her mother’s arm. “Then we’d best not keep Cousin Edna waiting—or your groom, either.”

Naomi stood in the living room, appraising each nook and cranny to be sure there wasn’t a speck of dust. She’d been up since early this morning and had worked until late last night, making certain the house was clean and everything was ready for Papa and Fannie’s big day.

Fannie and her daughter, Abby; her daughter-in-law, Lena; and her cousin, Edna had come over yesterday to help cook and clean. The women dusted, washed windows, scrubbed floors, and made huge pots of chicken corn soup, Papa’s favorite. At the reception dinner, they would also serve potato cakes, cucumber salad, deviled eggs, and the spiced layer cake Edna had promised to bake. The meal wouldn’t be nearly as elaborate as a first-time wedding, but the food would be tasty and filling, nonetheless.

Naomi thought about how Fannie’s daughter had pitched right in and worked hard all day with a smile on her face. Naomi had taken a liking to Abby when they’d first met, and even though Abby was two years younger than she was, Naomi could tell the woman was mature and responsible. Abby wasn’t quite nineteen, yet she had taken on the task of running her mother’s quilt shop in Ohio, and according to Fannie, she’d done well with it, too. Now that Fannie was marrying Naomi’s daed and would be staying in Lancaster County, where she’d be running the quilt shop Papa added to his store, Abby planned to remain in Berlin and keep that shop open.

Naomi shook her head. “As much as I love workin’ at the store, I doubt I could run the place alone.”

“You talkin’ to me or yourself?”

Naomi whirled around. Her father stood by the bookcase with a huge smile on his face. “Papa, you scared me half to death. I didn’t hear you come into the room.”

He chuckled. “No, I expect you didn’t or ya wouldn’t have been chattering out loud.”

A warm flush of heat spread across Naomi’s cheeks. “You got me there.”

“What makes you think you’ll have to run the store by yourself?” Papa asked.

“I was thinkin’ about how Abby’s taken over her mamm’s quilt shop in Ohio and marveling at how she’s doin’ so well with it.”

“Jah, she seems like a capable young woman. A lot like her mother, I expect.”

Naomi took a seat on one of the wooden benches that had been set up in the room. “You think everything looks okay, Papa? Is the place clean enough for this special day?”